The Cheerleader, the Bully, and the Bass Player
by Sweetwater Gal
Summary: 3 months.  The equivalent of one summer.  Away from Lima, Ohio.  That's all it took.   Summers spent for 3 unlikely personalities to share a friendship beyond the HS stereotypes; The Queen Bee, the closeted Jock, and the Musical Prodigy. AU.
1. Sisterhood of the Pregnant Pilates

**Title: The Cheerleader, the Bully, and the Bass Player (or the Series of Defining Summers)**

**Summary:** Three months. The equivalent of one summer. Summer vacation. Away from Lima, Ohio. That's all it took. Summers spent for three unlikely personalities to share a friendship that goes beyond the social stereotypes high school has given them; the Queen Bee, the closeted Jock, and the quiet Music Prodigy. AU (yet somewhat canon when it comes to certain interwoven story lines).

**A/N:** There's probably a million and one reasons why I shouldn't be doing this (one of them being that I'm notorious for WIPs, sincere apology to the WOWP fandom especially). And okay, let's be honest here; Karofsky and Fabrey? The school's resident closeted bully and the former Head Cheerio? Crack-friendship if there ever was... But I kind of got inspired to write this for the following reasons; 1) they're my two favorite characters of this entire series, 2) I'm oddly drawn to the nameless bass player that's as much a constant in this show as inconsistencies, and 3) this plot bunny will NOT go away until it gets fulfilled.

So long story short: This is a series of stories/dialogue/events between the three characters. Some are trivial. Some are defining. Some are fluff. Some are heavy. And all are sporadic and spread throughout their lives.

**Disclaimer:** No one belongs to me. Except maybe a couple of OCs... But other than that, not even the nameless bass player cutie, played by Scott Hensen, belongs to me.

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**Sisterhood of the Pregnant Pilates**

Once upon a time, three different women entered the Pilates studio in Lima, Ohio as strangers. In a span of about three to four months, the three Pilate members realized they had four things in common:

**1. They were the only pregnant members in the club.** One blonde, slightly WASP-ish woman declared that despite her thin frame, she was six months in. The second woman, with nimble fingers, raven hair and a timid smile, said she was into her fourth month. The third brown haired, hazel eyed, woman boasted that she was coming on nine months and _Oh boy_ she had a feeling this one was going to be a future line-backer.

**2. Religion.** The blonde always wore, and often played with when she was nervous, a small, golden cross around her neck. Around the second woman's delicate hands, she had a silver band with the inscription "Faith, Love, and Music" (a personal mantra she took to heart). And the brown haired woman kept complaining how _Kosher be damned_, if she had to hear her mother-in-law bitch that she couldn't fulfill her shrimp, bacon, and avocado pizza cravings _oh so God help her!_

**3. Irrational Fear for their Unborn.** The brown haired woman worried that her baby will inherit her husband's quiet, and at times horrible, temper. The raven haired woman feared her child will be born deaf and mute. The blonde haired woman was terrified that this child will look upon her with disappointment, for she can already see it in the eyes of her first born.

**And 4. Hawaii.** All three supposed that they can blame their sudden urge to visit the tropical State on the sole fact that their Pilates instructor was simply tall, dark, and Hawaiian Gorgeous. Plus, each woman figured that once their pregnancy was over, they could _definitely _use a vacation!

Four things, more or less, in common. It was enough for the trio to form a friendship that extended _outside_ of the Pilates studio. Whether it be for a quick coffee break, or a brief afternoon shopping for post-maternity wear; the three women found themselves, for a few months, quite inseparable.

Once upon a time, three different women entered the Pilates studio in Lima, Ohio as strangers. In the span of one summer, they exited said studio as friends.

One summer. That's all it took for three lives to form _one unforgettable bond_.

Well… _Two_. They were pregnant after all.


	2. Life's One Happy Game

**Disclaimer: **The songs below don't belong to me. Nor does any of the original GLEE characters.

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**Life's One Happy Game**

_Summer Before High School, Freshman Year: Third Week of June_

"_Something There._"

There's a beat. A silence. My eyes briefly leave the music review article I was marginally engrossed in just to realize the bafflement on my friend's face. I flitted my gaze onto my other friend and took note of the slight smirk on hers.

At his confused silence, I lean towards David and murmur, "Beauty and the Beast."

He raised a single brow, a common trait that they both shared whenever they overhear an incredulous statement. "Seriously?" He managed to choke out, followed by a scoff.

Before my eyes turned away from their interaction, I had seen her nod at him, "Of course. Why? Don't you agree?"

"No." We both managed to reply with the same amount of disbelief in our voices.

"Fine." Quinn huffed. I don't even need to look up to know that she had probably crossed her arms at us. Not at all amused to be outranked, "Then what song do you suppose describes-"

Without hesitation, not to mention never having my eyes leave the** Rolling Stones **magazine I was currently skimming over, "_I Just Can't Wait to Be King._"

There was another silence. Same tone. This time I knew it came from her end. I tried not to sigh as I reluctantly closed my magazine. There was no way I could read it in peace knowing a conversation like this was taking place.

David had his self-satisfied _Damn, straight _smirk. Quinn had her _You're shitting, me_ smirk. Me? I was just annoyed.

"You're no Simba." She said. "Well," she slightly considered, "then again, your bite is bigger than your growl."

"I'm a little hurt, Q-Tip. Are you saying that I'm ugly, which is why you compared me to the Beast?"

"Personally," I interjected, "I would have gone with _Go The Distance_, but Dave here has issues when a guy describes another guy using such a phrase."

As I took a sip of my iced coffee, I watched as the scarlet hue streak across his face. It immediately disappeared the same moment a scowl formed in its place. "Fuck you, Cello."

Quinn cast me a small smile, "No. You're right, Jon. That seems to be David's anthem, if anything."

We heard him mutter "That's so gay" before growling, "Why the hell would you choose that song?"

Deciding to appease him, Quinn threw him a flirtatious smile, "Because you're our Hercules." I watched as she reached over and squeeze his bicep, "The tough guy with a tender heart and dreams far too big for our hick town." She turned her gaze towards me, giving me a silent cue before I started to hum the opening chorus.

With an incredulous look on his face, David watched as we made slight fools of ourselves in an attempt to boast his, surprisingly, low self-esteem.

In a soft and tender voice, Quinn sang, _"He has often dreamed of a far-off place. Where a hero's welcome will be waiting for him. Where the crowds will cheer when they see his face. And a voice keeps saying This is where you're meant to be…"_

We couldn't see why he thought so little of himself, what with teachers always fawning over his grades and with his already growing reputation for being a hockey prodigy; but for some reason or another, whenever something great would happen in his life, our childhood friend would have this heartbreaking look in his eyes that said _Why me?_

"_You'll be there someday…"_

"You guys are nuts." His scathing disbelief attempted to derail our musical message, but it only reinforced the both of us to continue (if at least until through the main chorus, where even I, one for always playing instrumental back-up, vocally joined in the next line).

"_Dave will go the distance..."_

"Gay. So gay."

"_He will find his way…"_

"Oh fuck me."

"_If he can be strong…"_

"I don't know you guys."

"_We know every mile will be worth the while."_

"I will disown the both of you if you complete-"

"_When he goes the distance…" _At this point, we both halt and stare at him expectantly. Quinn had her innocent _You love us, so why fight it?_ smile, and I merely shrugged and tossed my _Just go with it_ grin. Despite his verbal protest, not once did his words sting with hate. Exasperation may have reared its head, but his eyes were laughing and his mouth attempted (and failed) to hide a smile throughout it all.

David briefly closed his eyes, sighed, held his hands up in defeat, then openly crooned with a reluctant grin, _"I'll be right where I belong…"_

Quinn did a joyous clap and reached over to hug him. I did a slow applause before clasping his shoulder with a congratulatory squeeze. Both of us looking upon him with pride.

And while Quinn didn't see it, once more with a heavy heart I had seen that desperate _Why me?_ look flitter through his face.

"We love you, man." I utter as I stared at him reassuringly. David held my gaze, knowing what my words meant, before he shrugged (probably to hide in his self-doubt _again_) and tried to preen our pretty blonde friend off of him.

"Okay, okay…" He said, laughing at Quinn's iron-grip. David gave her a brotherly kiss on the forehead as he continued, "Enough of the High School Musical bullshit. I get it. I love you too. Now, can we continue our little game before I start to puke rainbows and gay little ponies?"

Quinn nodded at his words before casting a fleeting look my way. I hid my own reaction by absently picking up my **Rolling Stones **mag. We knew it was just words, but for some reason or another whenever it came out of David's mouth it left us feeling oddly cold and uncomfortable.

I coughed and before he could start to question our peculiar behavior, I said, "Quinn's classic Disney. _Someday My Prince Will Come._"

At David's outright laughter I could tell Quinn had just rolled her eyes at me. "I'm _not_ some helpless Disney princess."

"Sure you're not." We both said simultaneously, our words dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, and _you're_ not at all predictable, Jon?" She quipped. "Mr. _Why_-"

"_Why Should I Worry?_" Both David and I finished for her. I felt him throw an arm around and give a brief friendly squeeze. "Only our Cello's favorite movie; Oliver and Company."

I looked up and gave her a grin, "Jon 'Cello' Smith may be predictable, but I see it as yours truly just being consistent and reliable."

At my words, an unexpected (and somewhat unnerving, at least to me) pause fell upon us. Quinn looked down and started to play with her golden cross necklace. David released his hold on me as he too looked away. His hands found their way towards his uncle Ryan's letterman jacket. Quinn and her necklace. David and his jacket. Both were gifts given after our junior high graduation ceremony (mine's was a brand new cello, the old nickname not on all lost on the irony).

As I observed the two, I immediately realize that whatever my words meant to them, it had caused my oldest friends to start worrying about the impending doom that is high school.

I wasn't an idiot. My older cousins had forewarned me that high school was a living hell. Where the people you played in the sandbox with will eventually become your worst enemies. Quinn, whom had surpassed her awkward lanky phrase back in seventh grade, was blossoming into a future Prom Queen. The phrase "natural beauty" should be dedicated to her (yes, I'll admit, a part of me was in love with my oldest friend). And David, whom had outgrown his bumbling stockiness, had future All-Star Athlete written all over him. I had a fear that my favorite human-shield will one day turn _me_ into a human target.

As for me? I was already considered as a background character. The quiet kid that, if I wasn't blended into the crowd, was rarely seen alongside (or in between either) the future Prom Queen and the future All-Star. And to be honest, I was okay with that. I was average looking. I had average grades. I never caused a scene because I rarely stood out. Despite the low-key reputation I had as a "musical child prodigy", my parents made sure I had a normal childhood.

Well, as normal as one could get in Lima, Ohio.

Okay, the quietness was starting to get the best of me. Needing to ease the tension, I did what I did best; hum a tune.

For a moment, I was afraid that the song was unrecognizable to them (for they both had a startled, and somewhat confused, look on their faces). Fear clenched my chest as I wondered if they had forgotten what this particular song meant to us-

That is, until their reserved voices began harmonizing, _"You're the best of friends."_

Quinn broke off first, _"Life's a happy game…"_

"_You could clown around forever…"_ David replied.

I leapt in, hoping that they both never forget the message of this song, _"Neither one of you sees, your natural boundaries. Life's one happy game…"_

Quinn quickly wiped her eyes the same moment David try to stifle a sniffle.

We may disagree and argue over which Disney song captured who we are as individuals, _but_ we didn't need to finish singing to know which song undeniably defined _us_.

I just hoped that we never forget that.

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I have a few more... Please let me know what you think. Reading is lovely. Alerts are too. Reviews are especially charming candies for me from you.


	3. River Deep, Denial High

**A/N:** Just to clarify, this is COMPLETELY A.U. I will certainly borrow some canon plot points, but it's DEFINITELY **A.U.** because of the fact that Quinn, Karofsky, and Jon (whom I've dubbed as that bass player guy that we've seen in GLEE until we get a canon name) have a closer bond than they reveal to their classmates.

**Disclaimer:** None are mine. Some O.C. characters (and even the name I've bestowed upon the bass player), but other than that... NADA OWNED BY MOI.

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**River Deep, Denial High**

_**Summer After High School Graduation; First Week of June**_

Cello was an idiot. I even told him as much.

"You're a fuckin' idiot, dude."

His eyes remained behind his stupid **Rolling Stones **magazine. I heard a muffled response, which caused me to become annoyed and to subsequently rip the publication from his grasp. "David!" He cried.

"Stop hiding behind your fucking defense mechanism." I rolled my eyes at him. "Damn it, and don't look at me like that! Just because I hang out with Az, doesn't make me an idiot. I'm hurt you think so little of me."

A smirk, a rare occurrence to ever grace my lanky friend's face, appeared. "_I_ have a defense mechanism? Mr. Letterman Jacket doth protest much?" He attempted (and failing quite miserably) to do the single eyebrow quirk, that me and Q-Tip had mastered back in elementary school, thus causing a laugh to explode from my lips.

"Dude, don't." I grinned lazily at him, "You look like that retarded Hannah Montoya character-"

"_Montana_." He mumbled, dusting off the magazine from the ground.

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever. Potato, tater tots. All the same bad shit…"

"You _have_ hung out with Azimio too long." Jon muttered as he sunk his head back into **Rolling Stones**.

With a growl, I knocked that shit out of his hands and added, "It's bad enough you have his haircut."

A bit shocked by my actions, not to mention my insult, he quickly recovered to smooth his brown helmet hair and frown at me. "I don't understand…"

"Q-Tip and I are staying in state. _You_ are heading to Juilliard. And you've yet to declare how bat-shit crazy in love you are with her!"

His hands started to itch their way towards the crumpled magazine again…

To which I slapped his hand. I watched his face flush as he began to mumble his denial, causing me to roll my eyes once more.

"Pot calling the kettle black." He managed to spat out.

"Excuse me?"

"Y'know," Jon said, "Besides N.Y.U, _he_ also got accepted into Juilliard as well."

I could feel my jaw start to unhinge. Out of habit, my fists clenched. "Come again?"

Being ballsy, which is just as rare as the eyebrow thing, Jon taunted, "Day you tell him is the day I'll tell her."

Fucking Cello. "Fucking Cello-"

"Tell who what?" Quinn's voice interrupted what would have been the finest denial rant this side of- well, the Nile (heh. Az's right, my humor's fucked up).

She quirked an inquisitive brow, standing before us with our ordered drinks in her hands. Jon and I quickly shared a look. Well, a look that basically bought out the other's silence.

"Nothing." We both managed to spout out while simultaneously grabbing our drinks from her. This caused our friend to raise her brow higher, baffled by our outburst.

Needing to ease the tension, I grinned at her response. To Jon, "See? _That_ right there is how you own the eyebrow thing."

He rolled his eyes at my words.


	4. Lynn and the THNGVBD

**Disclaimer:** Anything GLEE-related isn't mine. Nor are the children's books mentioned. Lynn Kelly, however, belongs to me. So does the fictional bookstore (which is based on one that I used to work in so long ago). This chapter is dedicated to Store #1498... may you RIP.

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**Lynn and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day**

_**Summer; Age Three**_

Lynn Kelly was having a shitty day.

First, her moped broke down. So not like she could get anywhere when her one mode of transportation was fucked.

Second, well _technically_ she supposed she should have counted it as number one, her alarm didn't go off in time _thus_ she was late for work. Not like she needed another verbal warning regarding her fuckery by her lazy-ass boss.

Third, she missed the bus. By two _fucking_ minutes. She ran half a block, waving her hands at the driver to stop (which he _didn't_, the prick). What the hell happened to the Aloha Spirit?

And fourth (on top of _everything else_) she was having a crappy hair day. Her naturally straight black hair was all over the flipping place, thus she had to bunch it into one quick ponytail that essentially made her head look like a horse's ass.

Yeah. Great day.

Lynn walked into the bookstore, bypassing her perturbed boss, flipping off her cute co-worker that was smirking at her seething attitude (damn, why the hell did Tod have to look so _adorable_ at her misfortune?), and headed straight to the backroom to clock in. As her eyes drifted to the Daily Tasks board, that was plastered next to the log-in sheet, Lynn found herself stifling a scream of frustration.

**KELLY, LYNN - CASHIER, ROMANCE BAYS, CHILDREN AREA (stock).**

Translation: Ringing up cheap tourists, hearing undersexed women bitch about their love lives (lack thereof), and then capping her shift with restocking _and_ reorganizing the hell-hole known as the _Children Section_.

Shitty. Shitty. FUCK ME shitty day.

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Six Hours in and Lynn could not _wait_ to get the hell out of dodge. At the start of her last hour, Lynn alternated her gaze between her watch and the bookshelves lined with tiny board books and squeaky books (perfect for the pint-size brats to stuff in their mouths).

Her eyes started to glaze over in boredom (as she stuffed the _nth_ copy of **The Hungry Caterpillar** onto the shelf) when she felt something small tug on her hoodie sleeve.

"What?" she tried to bite back the growl of annoyance (_"Customers first."_ nasally and ringing through her ears) when her eyes glanced to the side. A slight hitch caught in her throat and (oh God help her) a piece of her heart melted.

Tiny. Blonde hair with small red butterfly barrettes to match her (oh God, why must parents dress them up in the gawdy tourist get-up?) red and white hibiscus dress. And her shoes! Pristine white and _oh so tiny_… Lynn couldn't help the softening of her smile as she gazed down at this little girl.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Lynn found herself saying with genuine sweetness, and cringing inwardly as she cursed her one kryptonite: kids between the ages of three and ten (that golden era where they are too old to wear diapers and too young to start talking back).

The little girl pointed at something beyond and over Lynn's shoulder. The bookseller glanced behind at the shelf, then back at the child before asking, "Which one, sweetie?"

Lynn's heart melted to gunk as she watched this child demurely (yes, look the word up and you'll probably _see_ that kid's face) at the question. Before Lynn could repeat herself, a soft, yet slightly confidant, voice said, "Over."

Lynn's eyes followed the voice and (God _damn_ it, her heart was already a mess!) found herself looking at a Little Rascal, a mini-Spanky (if that was even possible) to be exact. The little boy was decked out in a red and white hibiscus get-up. His short brown hair and dimpled grin was enough cuteness to cause Lynn to puke fluffy bunnies (again, if that was even possible).

"Over?" She parroted and glanced once more to the row of books behind her. There was a bunch of books displayed on the **Baby - Toddler** section, and none of them had anything to do with the word "over."

Lynn looked back at the two (were they twins? Siblings, at least?) kids and that's when she saw the third wheel, also in matching red aloha shirt. The third child, smaller in stature compared to mini-Spanky, was sitting at the far corner of the Children's Area. His head was engrossed in one of those annoying Push Button to Make a Sound books. If she had to guess, it was probably an Elmo Sing-Along.

"_Na, na, na, na… Elmo's World…"_

Yep. Definitely Elmo.

The little girl, whom was now at mini-Spanky's side and clutching his hand like a lifesaver, pointed up and repeated the word "Over."

"I don't understand, sweetheart. Over where?"

"No." Mini-Spanky huffed, "_G'over_." Lynn blinked for she could've sworn she saw the look of _You, moron._ pass through this little guy's face.

At the sound of the bigger child's indignation, Lynn noticed the smaller boy whip his head up and cast an apologetic smile her way. Before she could even wrap her mind around what the fuck these Baby Geniuses were pulling, the younger child started turning the pages of his Elmo Sing-Along and then held it up to the confused adult. He pointed at the smiling face of _**Grover the Monster**_ and then at the book over Lynn's far left shoulder.

Oh. _Oh…_

"_Grover_. I- Okay… You, kids…" She shook her head in embarrassment before grabbing **The Monster at the End of This Book** (starring one Grover the Monster). Lynn sighed and mumbled to no one in particular, "Auntie Lynn is a moron."

"Nah all pefect." Mini-Spanky shrugged and gave Lynn one of the cutest, gap-tooth, smart-ass grins she's ever seen in her life. In response, she reached over and affectionately rubbed his hair.

"Thank you." The little girl said as Lynn handed the book to her. The moment the title left her hand, Lynn got ambushed by a tiny hug around her leg that left her breathless. She looked down and fought the urge to tear up.

Damn kids. Why couldn't they all stay young and cute?

After the little girl had released her leg, Lynn started to turn and walk away (she did have work to do and more carts of books to unload, whoopee! Not.) when she heard a timid voice call out to her.

"Wait,"

She looked over and saw the younger boy, her apparent savior in the _Over_ Crisis, walk up to stand next to the other kids, whom was staring at her with wide, expectant eyes.

"Yeah, munchkin?"

He looked over at the little girl, who nodded and then proceeded to hold the book up to Lynn. Mini-Spanky's grin grew wider as the other boy pleaded, "Read, please?"

… Lynn blinked once. What?

"Pwease?" The little girl insisted, getting on her tip-toes to hold the book up higher.

Oh… Fuck it. She blinked back the tears and nodded. "Okay."

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An hour later, Lynn found one Grover monster, three adorable kids, six more read-aloud stories, and a pleasant end to an all too shitty day.


End file.
